Ulterior Motive
by Ryasma
Summary: After two brothers were orphaned after a horrible double murder, the eldest pledges himself to the police force, determined to hunt down the one responsible. The younger slips away to the darkness of the alley. As the eldest becomes colonel of the Maine State Police, the younger is desperately working to uncover an intricate plot, with him at the center. Very AU of Madness Combat.
1. Prologue

Well certainly, this is a surprise. It's not often I get a second head on one of my cases, unless you're just part of my own. It seems life is just full of surprises, doesn't it? Ah, this may very well be a good thing, as this appears to be one of my more...difficult cases. You see, I'm an expert in my relatively small field. As the only willing expert on seemingly psychotic killers in this state and the surrounding states, I can be in high demand.

You may be wondering, how can someone become such an expert on a small percentage of the population whose minds are so radically different from ours? Well, yours. The only way to understand someone is to be like them. I'm different from most psychopathic killers, I'm proud to say I'm a little more human-seeming than the run-of-the-mill. By the good graces of law enforcement, I was able to reform and rejoin society.

All the people I work with-police, detectives, even the government-they all know about my past. It's why they work with me. They also like to remind me a little too much about what would happen if I step out of line. Oh yes, they love to use Ol' Sparky as a scare tactic to keep me in line.

But being in such high demand isn't always a good thing. It's how I ended up deep in the forests of Maine, hunting down a particularly strange killer who had been described to me as "highly dangerous". I've dealt with people described like this before, but the urgency of the call and the initial scene made me almost believe he wanted to be caught. So that had me thinking twice.

"Here" happened to be an old abandoned mansion, hidden away amidst trees and greenery. I stood in front of the entryway, admiring the architecture and contemplating what lay inside. From what I heard, this individual was prone to setting up traps to give himself the upper hand. Luckily, I had been much faster arriving than I thought, and now I hoped to catch him mid-preparation.

Ready to act, I started walking around to the back of the house, looking for a rear entrance. I was able to locate the back porch, fitted with a rather large, rather broken sliding glass door. Since this would be the perfect place for a trap to have been set up, I was mildly surprised there wasn't. And more than mildly worried. Not setting up traps to give him the advantage meant he believed he already had an advantage, and I'm not quite sure how I liked that. Quickly thinking, I called for back-up before cautiously entering the building.

Now inside the house, I proceeded slowly and meticulously; searching for any signs of the man I was looking for. Getting to the salon of the house, after carefully searching behind the couches, I noticed a peculiar arrangement on the dusty coffee table.

 _What the...?_

As I stepped closer to the objects on the table, my blood ran cold.

A photo. Of something. Why that? Why now? Only one other person knew about it, it can't be him!

 _Click._

Oh, of course it was him. The legend. And he was right behind me.

I made a start for the floor-to-ceiling windows leading to the outside, to safety, but stopped abruptly when a shot flew past my ear.

"Now now, we can't have that, now can we?" I knew that voice, I knew it. Deep and edged with ice, it commanded without effort. And for only the second time in my life, I was afraid.

"Let's turn around, hmm? It'll be much better for you."

Foolishly hoping it would extend my life, I slowly turned around. And there he was.

I never knew his name, but just then I finally got a look at him. Long, that's what stuck. From his long, black overcoat to his long stark blond hair. His tall, lanky frame to his long arms, long legs. Long, long, **long.** And the long silence. Oh, God.

After an eternity, he gestured to the photo with his outstretched pistol.

"Didn't think you'd see them again, hm? Thought you'd buried them, thought...no one knew? Well, they're back. For you."

I said nothing, staring at him; his face framed by his hair. His long hair... Another _long_ pause.

"Tell me, what were their last words? Did they beg? Oh, that would be nice. It's always nice when they beg, isn't it?" The ghost of a smirk pinned me to my past as a spider is pinned to a board.

They did beg, they did. I was shaking, my fists clenched; I was furious. Furious; that with his soft, mocking tone he could get to me.

"Ah!" He sounded pleasantly surprised. "They did, didn't they? But of course, that didn't stop you. Your own wife and child. How...tragic."

The last word he dropped like a bomb. They were the only reason I was doing this. As I had listened to the screams of my wife and child fading from memory, I vowed then and there that nothing like that horrible day would ever happen again. So I hoped the backup team was on its way, and stalled.

"You don't understand. If you did, you would walk away." Nothing. "I'm one of you. I can help you out of this; I know they're hunting you. I-"

"And who is helping them, I wonder? I don't need your help with anything, much less with this mess you got me into." He paused, head tilted slightly. "Oh, by the way, I'm not 'one of you'. I hunt people like you. And that's why I'm here."

I met his gaze, grey and unwavering, straining to find anything to postpone the inevitable, and came up empty.

"You're not going anywhere."

Defeated, I sunk to my knees as the oh so small human part of me was overcome with pent-up grief. The monster within just wanted it to end.

"Oh, shall we do this execution style? This is really up to you."

"Just do what you came to do, I don't care anymore."

He paused, considering my answer. "Very well."

I felt the muzzle of the pistol press against my head.

"You have answered to me, now you shall answer to them. Good night."

And it was over.

* * *

Read the next chapter cowards. It's much better.


	2. Reunion

As the man's body slumped to the side, I couldn't help but admire how picturesque it was. His reaction to being reminded of his deed was priceless. But still, how could someone kill their own wife and child? Well, now that I'm actually thinking about it, I probably could if needed. Also pretty hypocritical coming from someone who also killed family. Whoops.

I moved away from the body, contemplating my next move. If I had calculated everything right, any backup he would have called would be on its way right now. I could leave to strike again to further grab his attention...or I could stay.

No. I wasn't ready just yet. So deciding to leave, I quickly moved to the rear of the house, where my late friend had made his entrance. Because the tree line grew closest to the back of the house, it strategically made sense to use that as an exit. Stepping through the broken sliding door and onto the porch, I noticed the grass was much too trampled for one person.

Obviously, that meant there was more than one person.

Just as I had come to that conclusion, a fully armed SWAT team burst from the foliage with various firearms trained at me. As a defensive reaction, I raised my own gun to meet them, quickly calculating how I could take out as many as possible while retaining as few injuries as I could.

From behind me, in the house, I heard "Drop the gun and put your hands in the air! You are under arrest for first-degree murder!"

By the sound following the shout, I estimated about five policemen behind me. By that assessment, I decided, for now, it would be smart to play it safe. At least until I could gain the upper hand.

So: gun on the ground, hands in the air, I watched as the state colonel strode towards me.

Finally.

He stopped in front of me, looked me up and down, and smirked.

"Well well well, look who we have here. It seems to me, you've finally been caught! And a grand chase you've lead over the country."

I stood in silence, thinking how ironic it was; just a few minutes ago I was in a strikingly similar confrontation but on the other side of the gun. There was also, I remember, considerably fewer guns before.

"Heh, I don't think you can weasel out of this one, what with you being surrounded and everything," he said, gesturing to my hands, still in the air. As he was talking, I couldn't help but feel something was different. Not that it mattered right now.

"Oh, I can't? We'll see about that."

"Really? You just murdered a hardworking man of the law in cold blood. That itself would call for at least a life sentence. But amid everything else you've done..." His expression hardened. "You know what you have coming."

Taking advantage of my effect on people, I smiled. As usual, it worked like a charm. Proven by his small, involuntary, step back.

"And yet you don't know the most basic information about the people you hire. Remember the unsolved case of the murder of his wife and child? Well," I closed my eyes. I had his attention, now to strike. "You let the murderer into your ranks; you gave him the perfect cover to kill and kill again."

Opening my eyes, I saw the reaction I was expecting to see. The look of shock and disbelief was there and gone in an instant, but it had been there. Maybe he was surprised I would spin such a tale to slander the Maine police force's favorite expert. Or maybe he did believe me.

Darkness clouded his face as he lifted a finger. Suddenly, I was on the ground in the most incredible pain. Memories, nightmares from the past flashed by, more pain. Tasers. Of course, they would have tasers. I looked up through involuntary tears to see the colonel looking down at me in disgust. He kicked me in the side, bringing a moan and more pain.

"You're despicable. I can't believe you're my flesh and blood." Rolling onto my stomach, I attempted to get up. I returned his insult with another smile, although through the pain it was more of a grimace.

"Same to you, brother dear."

He snarled and kicked me again, making me lose my balance and my smile. "Get him up and in cuffs. All of you standing by, I want your weapons trained on him at all times. Do not let him escape." As he finished ordering his men, he looked back down at me. After giving me one more dirty look, he turned and left.

Now I took a serious moment to assess my situation. Where I was - still in pain, now handcuffed, and without a weapon - there wasn't much I could do. I could finally think about what was so strange about our short-lived confrontation; I was taller than him. I had always thought he was the taller; it had been that way when I had last seen him, but apparently not anymore.

I was quite rudely ripped from my thoughts as I was paraded through a heavily armed crowd to a heavily armored vehicle, shoved unceremoniously in, and driven away.


	3. Condemned

The first thing I noticed was that, with my hands cuffed _behind_ my back, I couldn't put my seatbelt on, much less actually get onto the seat and in a more comfortable position. Much awkward and fruitless scrambling led me to that conclusion. They didn't really care much about comfort, did they?

So I resigned to my fate on the floor.

I didn't know if whoever pushed me in intended it, but from my grand position with the floor mats prevented me from seeing much out the window. So, consequently, I couldn't see where I was being taken. Great for them, not so much for me.

The next thing I noticed was even if I was in a position to look out the window, they were tinted to such an extreme the back seat was lit by a lightbulb due to lack of sunlight. So the fact that I was on the floor wasn't strategic, it was to make me uncomfortable. Or just easy for them.

I struggled for a few minutes in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position and largely succeeded. The last thing I noticed was the partition between me and the front of the car. I had a feeling that whatever material it was made out of would be ridiculously difficult to break on my own, so any attempt to get at the driver was out. So again, it would probably be best to wait this out and see if I could get into a better position.

After a few minutes of trying to study the turns made by the driver, we hit what felt like a gravel road. I realized that if I couldn't judge our speed, I couldn't know where we were. And I certainly didn't know any gravel road where I thought we would be. So I gave up.

At one point, several minutes in, the gravel road ended and a smoother ride prevailed. I relaxed a bit and breathed a small sigh of relief. Suddenly the driver made an abrupt stop. The door flew open and I was blinded by the sudden abundance of light. As suddenly as it appeared, it was blocked out by a body.

Ah, my brother.

He looked at me disdainfully down at my position on the floor. I looked back up at him.

"Your people aren't very considerate, are they, David?"

He didn't answer me but instead grabbed me by the arm pulling me bodily from the vehicle.

Apparently, he wasn't very considerate either.

"You don't have any shame, do you?" His voice sounded strange.

I glanced at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

He gestured to the car. "You just sit on the floor like an animal, without a care in the world."

I glared, exasperated, at him. "Why don't you try maneuvering from the floor to the seat without the use of your arms. It's not as easy as you might think."

He ignored me and called someone forward. As they were talking- most likely about me - someone came up from behind me and slipped a blindfold over my eyes. A young woman's voice came from behind.

"The blindfold is just a precaution as you are not allowed to view the facility. Do not attempt to remove it."

"Oh."

* * *

As I was dragged around the compound, I was stripped of all my belonging that they deemed dangerous. Essentially, everything. To get my overcoat off, they had to remove the cuffs, but I could feel the muzzle of a weapon pressed into my skull the entire time. They took my shirt off as well, for good measure.

Finally, they had managed to remove everything they saw necessary, leaving me standing in my underwear. I was actually surprised they didn't just go all the way and strip me bare.

I heard a muddled conversation followed may the sound of multiple guns cocking. I stiffened in response. Someone went behind me and removed the cuffs and I understood what the presumably many guns were pointed at and why. What felt like clothes hit me in the chest and I barely caught them before they fell to the floor.

For the next few minutes, I slowly and carefully put on the clothes they so graciously threw at me, taking extra care to not dislodge the blindfold still blocking my sight. Any hope of staying in one piece would be dashed if one of these idiots found the smallest reason to shoot.

Once finished, I slowly raised my hands in the air. Almost immediately they were snatched out of the air and painfully wrenched behind my back. With the cuffs back on, someone grabbed my arm and started dragging me. I tried my best to keep upright, but it was a bit difficult as I had to walk sideways at a precariously fast pace. I'm sure my shoulder bruised over from the number of doors I slammed into.

Eventually, we came to a stop and I heard a door opening. There was a glorious exchange involving me being pushed from one person to another, followed by the door slamming shut. Hands were placed firmly on my shoulders, guiding me to a chair. My hands were uncuffed, my arms placed onto the arms of the chair and clamped down. I could feel my legs being clamped to the legs of the chair. They were really taking every precaution to keep me in place.

Once I had become one with the chair, someone decided it would finally be a good idea to remove the blindfold. The sudden flood of light overloaded my eyes for a brief moment before my vision cleared. And of course, who would be seated across from me? My brother, very good.

David struck a very commanding figure, perhaps to put me on edge. It didn't work very well at all. I smiled at him.

"Well, this certainly isn't how I expected us to finally meet, brother."

He leaned forward. "Don't you ever. Call me that. You are not my brother, you're a mistake."

I looked at him, hurt. "A mistake? Oh, you wound me. How could you say such a thing?"

One moment he was sitting, the next he was inches from my face. Threw me off a little.

"Years. Years we have hounded you. Ever since that night, you have done nothing but kill. How many years? How many people? Only God knows what else you've done." The low, dangerous tone of his voice almost mirrored mine. Threw me off even more. But I refused to answer.

My refusal made him furious. And that wasn't the only thing getting to him, I could tell something was straining him and he was going to take it out on me.

"You don't show any remorse for those people, any feeling whatsoever. Don't. You feel. _Anything?_ " His fist hit the table at each pause.

I steadily met his gaze. Oh, if only he knew. "I'm afraid I can't answer that."

"Monster." He turned to the young officer standing next to him. "I want maximum security for this one. He doesn't see the light of day." The officer nodded and began to move forward.

"Hang on."

Both froze and looked at me. I looked back at David.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"


	4. Anger

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

I was met with blank stares. Slowly, David motioned the officer to step back. Then he turned back to me.

"Oh really? You're just trying to avoid being in a cell. I know."

"And I know that if you do put me in the lovely cell you have awaiting me, then you will have no hope of finding your daughter." Silence and a wide-eyed stare.

Bingo.

He slammed his fists right in front of me, startling me slightly.

"Where is she?" He demanded.

"Oh, I can't tell you just ye-"

"WHERE IS SHE!?"

Maintaining my composure, I met his glare coolly. He seemed to realize he couldn't strong-arm his way through and sat down heavily in his chair. "Don't you know where she is?"

Pleading. He was pleading to me. The raw emotion slipped through my façade and struck a chord somewhere deep. That merited a sincere response from me.

"Yes, I do."

He looked up quickly at me. "You do?"

"Yes."

"But you won't tell me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Conditions, brother."

Again, he slammed his fists into the table and got up. "Goddammit, Hank! You're acting so childish! Is that what she is to you!? A goddamned bargaining chip!? Your own fucking niece!" He was behind me now. "I guarantee you, when we find her there will be nothing left tying you to this earth!"

"Oh well that just gives me even less incentive to tell you, now doesn't it!? You don't even know half the story and already you're making wild, baseless accusations! Trying to strong-arm your way through everything is going to get her ki-"

He grabbed a great fistful of my hair and pulled back hard, cutting me off. My eyes widened at the force in which my head collided with the chair. That, combined with the hair pulling, sent more waves of pain down my spine.

"Get her killed!? Is that what you were going to say!? Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't killed her yet yourself, you psychopathic little freak!"

Of course, being in extreme pain and facing the possibility of having a large chunk of hair ripped from my skull, I couldn't answer. Then he started twisting.

A gasp escaped me as the new wave of agony rippled through my scalp. Now I _definitely_ couldn't answer.

"Colonel." A female voice from a corner of the room. "Colonel, he can't say anything with you abusing him like that. If you want answers, you need to stop hurting him." Finally, a voice of reason.

The pain lessened considerably, but his grip still held.

"What, are you feeling sorry for him?"

"I'd rather you not," I managed to say before he started to twist again.

"Not at all. You are just asking a question and then making it near impossible for him to answer you."

He let go of my hair and pushed my head forward. I heard him take a step back.

"Well?"

I took a deep breath. Oh, be still my beating heart. Once I had calmed down and trusted myself to speak, I began.


	5. Respite

"You know why I'm doing this? Because I can't get her back myself. Contrary to what you believe, I do look after family."

David snorted behind me. "You really expect me to believe you?"

"No. But ever since I heard what had happened, I managed to find where she's being kept. Think of it as an exchange of favors, a fair trial in exchange for her location. I know you'll stand a better chance than me."

He was quiet for a considerable amount of time. Finally, he moved to the young woman and whispered some instructions to her. She nodded and David glared at me as he and the other officer exited the small room.

For a few minutes, she stayed where she was; watching. So I watched her in return; assessing, analyzing. I came to the conclusion that while she was no one to really worry about, she could still cause me considerable trouble.

She then decided to break the silence.

"Tell me, what do you know about a rogue organization located in the heart of Siberia?"

Her voice was disarmingly soft and soothing, especially after David.

"Why would you need to know?"

She paused for a moment and seemed to come to a conclusion. "They are a very enigmatic group. Not much is known about them. Only two things are certain. A single man has escaped alive with the knowledge that could destroy them." She leaned in close, holding my gaze. "And they will stop at nothing to see that man dead."

"Oh what, are you one of them and you're working to weed this man out? What does this mean to you?" Think I'm overly cautious? You're probably right.

She looked confused. "What? No! I'm CIA, this man may be instrumental in preventing them from regrouping and causing untold damage. I'm aware you have multiple sources in the underground who could help."

I thought about it, finally reaching a decision. Not a very hard one. "That would be nice if you were able to do that, they are quite annoying."

"If you can help me find this man, they will become decidedly less annoying. I could even talk to your brother about granting you clemency."

"Well, when you put it that way, then maybe I'll consider it."

Just then the door behind me slammed open.

"Maybe I'll consider it if you let my daughter go."

"Sold."

Silence. Golden.

"Really? Just like that?"

I sighed. "That's what I've been trying to get at. Although with slightly more conditions than I had hoped. It'll have to be good enough."

"Well then," he let out a breath. "What do you need?"

"My phone, first of all. And arms that can move."

He groaned. "Fine, I can get you that." And he left the room again.

The young woman pulled out a small remote and pressed a button. Instantly I could move my arms again. The first thing I did was tend to my aching scalp, making sure nothing was getting ready to fall out and cause lasting damage. Then I realized my legs were still clamped down. Hm, apparently they didn't trust me completely. So I crossed my arms and waited for David to return with my phone.

A few minutes later he came in carrying it in his hand.

"This is a really interesting device. It appears to be a normal model, but it's much heavier. The OS seems different as well."

"That's because it's a custom job." I put my hand out to receive it. "A favor from a while back."

"Hm." He placed it in my hand.

Phone in hand, I was about to get started when I realized something. I looked up at my brother, who was waiting expectantly.

"What?"

"A password is private for a reason."

He looked away, disgusted. Now with prying eyes away, I could unlock my phone. Just a few seconds after he looked away, I could see my brother's gaze creeping back to the screen.

Once I was done, I leaned back.

"You'll get the coordinates momentarily. I would suggest you get military aid to get her." Locked and asleep, I set my phone down.

"Military aid!? Where is she!?"

He was distracted then by his own phone buzzing. When he pulled it out, the screen lit up and displayed the coordinates. He studied them for a few seconds before exclaiming "India!? She's in _India!?"_

"Oh yeah. She's under lock and key. And twenty-four-hour surveillance. Who knows how long she'll last." David looked at me in horror. I glanced at him and sighed. "I told you I wouldn't be able to get her on my own."

He looked at me, then at his phone again, before running out the door.

Now I turned to face the woman.

"There. I've completed that part of the bargain, let me go and we'll see about the rest."

She looked me over for a few seconds, obviously deciding whether she could trust me. Ultimately she came to a decision.

"Come on," she said as she released my legs. Sweet freedom. "We're moving to a more comfortable setting." She looked at me meaningfully as I got up. "Need I remind you of the position you are in?"

"Oh, no no. I know. I'll be good."

"Then follow me."

To the officer just outside, she said, "Tell him we'll be in his office if he comes back looking for us." The officer nodded and we continued on our way.

Ah, freedom.


	6. Disbelief

It was surreal I tell you, very surreal.

After about six minutes of walking and five or six glares from passing officers, we seemed to have made it to our destination. I must say again, it felt weird to be walking through a police station and not having people trying to gun me down. Just walking as if I belong here. _Surreal._

We stepped into my brother's office and she motioned me to sit down.

After a few minutes of sitting in complete silence, David came back.

"You really trust him to be running around?" he said to the woman while glaring at me.

"He is an unarmed man amongst dozens of armed officers. He understands that, he'll cooperate," she replied, as I coolly met his glare.

Sighing, he sank into his char, suddenly looking very tired. "Alright, the government's been notified and a rescue op is being organized." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts, before turning to the young woman. "I guess he's in your hands now."

I raised my eyebrow at this last remark but nonetheless faced the young woman.

"Right." She pulled a folder out of her jacket and started sifting through papers. I sat expectantly, waiting for her to finish, until she was finally ready.

"So," she said, looking at me. "Tell me what you know about this group in Russia."

"You already asked me this."

"Yes, but you didn't answer."

I closed my eyes, thinking for a minute about what the say.

"They have a name, you know."

The young woman looked slightly taken aback, before leaning in closer. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "I mean they have a name."

"Yes, you said that." She seemed to be annoyed.

"I don't know how I could be any clearer."

She looked down. "Maybe you can tell us the name and elaborate on how you know it."

I looked down at the floor, hands clasped together. _Should I?_ Yes. After all, what choice did I have? As with my niece, I couldn't handle this on my own either.

"They call themselves Osvobozhdenyie, or Liberation in English." When I looked up, the woman was furiously writing in her folder. She paused and looked up.

"How do you spell that?"

I got up and moved to the desk. Kneeling beside her, I took a pen form David's desk and wrote:

Освобождение

On a piece of paper. I glanced up and saw her look of disbelief, a look that followed me back to my seat.

"I said I would help you find the man you have been looking for."

"Oh, and now you're taking it back!?"

Both the woman and I looked at David in surprise; he had been silent throughout the whole exchange. Seems he still resents me.

"No," I looked at him pointedly, "I was going to say you don't need my help for that." Now to wait for that to sink in.

The woman looked back at me. "What are you trying to say...?"

I returned my gaze to her, spreading my arms. "You've already found him."

They both stared at me in silence before David spoke.

"You?" His voice was barely a whisper.

I just looked back at him, neither confirming nor denying it.

The woman recovered first and started asking questions so quickly I couldn't answer. I held up a hand to stem the flow of inquiries and she stopped, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I can answer your questions," I stated, "but not so fast."

She nodded and began again.

"How long were you there?"

"Five years, I believe."

A slight intake of breath. "What did they do with you?"

"The same thing they did to the other four hundred odd people they had."

"And what was that?"

"Human experimentation."

She looked up at me. "Really?"

"Yes"

"And what, may I ask, were they experimenting for?"

"It may be best if I just show you."

I got up again and moved back to where she sat by the desk. Picking up a piece of paper from her folder I asked, "This isn't terribly important, is it?"

"No, why...?"

"Perfect."

And I ripped the sheet in half.

Instantly I heard a mew of surprise from the young woman and a start of anger from across the desk.

"What the-? What do you think you're doing!?" David exclaimed as he moved to get out of his chair.

I held up a finger to halt his rise. "I'm not finished."

Carefully, I placed the two torn halves of the paper on the desk, making sure both could see. Then, commanding their full attention, I placed my finger on the tear and traced it. I came away feeling drained.

They were left staring at a now intact sheet of paper.

"What...?" The young woman gingerly picked up the piece of paper.

"Cassandra, what does this mean...?"

The young woman - Cassandra - was still mesmerized by the sheet of paper. "I've never seen anything quite like this."

"That's because, as far as I know, I'm the only one who can do it. I think it's a form of telekinesis."

Cassandra finally tore her gaze from the paper and fixed it on me. "Telekinesis? How?"

"I don't know."

Silence followed me once again to my seat. When I was settled down, I began.


	7. Beginning

"They captured me while we were crossing Siberia. We were in a...delicate situation, and in the confusion, I was knocked unconscious. When I woke up, all I could feel was pain. Everything was a blur, I don't think I woke up much during the first four years. The-I'm assuming-last year was the year I was awake the most. I learned through snippets that they had started out with around four hundred other people, with as many neurological variations as possible; mainly every form of neurodivergency possible. I also learned that over the four years, most of them had died off due to complications, leaving three of us left. Me, a woman who was autistic, and a man who had severe ADHD. The woman shortly died, as her mind and body rejected whatever they did to her. To us."

I had to stop for a moment, the memories bringing back echoes of pain. They watched in silence. With an intake of breath, I continued.

"The other man had it much worse than I did. You remember I told you I was given telekinesis- or at least a form of it?"

They both nodded.

"Well, it turned out he got telepathy. It was evidently too much for him and he eventually killed himself. Which left only me. I don't know why I endured or how long. When I escaped, I remember it was dark, cold." Pause. "When I fully regained my senses, I was in a city. I left the country as soon as I could."

Finished, I waited for their reactions. David didn't take long.

"No wonder they want you back so bad; they invested so much time in you."

I nodded. Cassandra stared at her papers; maybe lost in thought? Perhaps. Regardless, both of them were just sitting there. Then David stood up.

"Well, Hank, it's getting late; so unless you want to spend the night in a cell, I suggest you find some accommodations." I frowned at him.

"Oh, he can stay at my place; the house has a spare bedroom he can use." Both of us turned to face her-David with surprise.

"It'll be easier to keep an eye on him," she explained, and he nodded in understanding, sitting back down.

"If you two don't object, I would like my personal effects before we leave." If they think I'll leave the complex without my clothes...

"Yes, we can pick them up as we go."

I nodded and sat back. Good. It took a few seconds, but Cassandra soon finished putting everything away. She stood up and beckoned me to follow her.

As we left the office, she said "Good night Colonel," and closed the door behind us. He was left still sitting at his desk looking...overwhelmed, perhaps?

We made a quick stop to pick up my clothes, and thankfully I was allowed to change. I was getting tired of walking around barefoot.

We managed to get to her vehicle without me being unjustly gunned down and made it out of the complex unscathed. I would have been content with a silent ride, but Cassandra insisted on continuing the interrogation.

"Do you know Russian?"

"No...?" Kind of out of the blue, but okay.

"Those scientists would have been speaking Russian, so how you have understood them?"

"I-I don't know. I understand speech well enough, but the writing required help...hm. Interesting."

She glanced at me. "Interesting?"

"By all rights, I shouldn't be able to understand Russian at all."

"Well, they would have been talking while you were unconscious, so perhaps your subconscious was listening and got four, five years complete immersion. It could have been enough."

"Immersion."

"Yes, it's how I learned English."

Really?

"You also- at the beginning you said something- you said 'we'. What- who were you with?"

"No."

"Uh, I'm sorry?"

"That has nothing to do with your current investigation. I do not want to talk about it."

Her brow furrowed at this statement. She didn't speak again until we arrived at our destination.

"Alright," she said as she parked the car. "We're here."

"I can see that, given that you've parked."

She gave me an annoyed look and got out of the car. "I'm going to have my hands full with you."

Unsure at how to respond to this, I got out of the car and followed her to the house.

"You live here?"

"For the time being, while I'm stationed here."

"You rent it?"

"The Agency does. It has deals with homeowners across the country. Anyway, we probably won't be staying here for very long; when I send my report in, they'll likely want us to fly down to D.C."

"D.C.? Are you sure I'm allowed in D.C.?"

"With a federal agent, you will be."

Inside the house was spacious and airy. The main part of the house spanned two floors and on the right side, I could see a small balcony linked to what I assumed was the master bedroom. Late evening light was streaming in through the large windows at the other end of the house. All in all, it could be summed up by a few words.

"I could get used to this."

"Well, don't get too attached; we may be moving out soon."

"Hmm. Pity."

She pointed to the right. "You room will be up the stairs and to the...left? when you get up there." She was spinning around to try and make sense of the directions she was giving. "To the right now but to the left when you get up there..."

I raised an eyebrow, watching her now mumble to herself, and decided to leave her and find my room.

The room - as I did find it to the left 'when I got up there' as she said-was spacious as well. The large window on the far wall was open slightly, letting a cool breeze ruffle the curtains and dance around the room. The breeze quickly found me and danced through my coat and darted in and out of my hair.

For the first time in years, I felt truly calm. I closed my eyes to savor the moment; to enjoy the feeling. Has it really been that long? Almost seventeen long years since that day, the day our childhood ended, the day I-

"Hank?"

I started. So much for my serene moment. I hadn't even noticed her behind me. I turned towards her.

"Yes?"

Her brows were furrowed and her eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright?"

I turned back to the room. "Yes, I believe."

"You believe?"

"Yes."

I heard her sniff behind me. "Well, when you're done, we can go get you some more clothes and whatever else you may need. Since, well, you don't have much."

When I didn't move or answer, she laid a hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Mm. "Yes. It's just been a while since I felt...well, safe really. Calm." I gently shrugged her hand off.

"And when was the last time?" she asked softly.

I looked at her. "Almost two decades ago". And with that, I breezed past her out of the room and started to descend the stairs. I called back up to her. "Shouldn't we be going to get what I need? After all, I don't have much."

I heard her sigh behind me and I couldn't help but think; _this is going to be interesting._


	8. Musings

Midnight. The perfect time for a murder, a confession, or just some quiet contemplation. My life had definitely taken a strange turn; although my definition of normal differs from most.

I sat at the open window, gazing into the dark. A steady and pounding rain had replaced the breeze from earlier, and so replaced the previous calm with a sense of foreboding. For the first time in several years, I had no idea where my life was going.

My thoughts were punctuated by a flash of lightning. By reflex, I started counting. The rumble of thunder, 7 seconds. I had long ago forgotten what that entailed, some distance away the center of the storm was or something. But exactly how had been lost to me.

I closed my eyes and listened to the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. A dog started barking, then another. Eventually, both of them stopped. The world slowed...

Chirping? The rain was gone.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by a small songbird, mere inches from my face. It was morning, I must have fallen asleep.

Wait; a bird? In November? That was a little strange. I watched the small animal.

 _Aren't you a little late?_

It didn't seem to care.

I sat up straight, stretching, and felt something heavy fall off my shoulders. I looked down at what had just fallen to the floor. A blanket.

 _Now how did that get there?_

I stood and picked up the blanket. I held it for a few seconds, not quite fully awake, then tossed it onto the unused bed.

I made my way downstairs and found Cassandra closing a backpack with a small suitcase nearby, presumably already packed. I must have looked confused, because when she looked up, she said, "I hope you're ready because we have a flight to catch."

"So soon?" I was already starting to miss the house I'd known for less than twelve hours.

"Yes. You had finally fallen asleep; albeit in a weird place, but I didn't want to wake you. So I hope you don't mind that I packed for you." She pointed to another suitcase, which I took to be full of my meager belongings; which was-for once-more than what I was wearing.

"Oh. Thank you."

"Now you're awake, you're going to start pulling your own weight. Our flight leaves at 11:00 and we're traveling civilian."

"And that means?"

"Traveling like normal people. You know, waiting in lines, checking luggage, going through security." She paused. "It was too short of a notice to get a personal flight." She squinted at me. "And you're not going out like that. That gives off too much of a murderer vibe."

Slightly confused, I took off my coat.

"And you're leaving it here."

I dropped it in surprise. "What? Why?"

"Oh don't worry, we're coming back. Meanwhile, if you're cold, you can wear this." She tossed a sweater in my general direction.

 _Murderer vibe?_ I picked up the sweater and put it on. It would be fine for Maine, but D.C. was further south. I stared down at the sweater, then shrugged. I would have to make it work.

She looked me over and nodded, evidently satisfied with what she saw. Though what that was, I wasn't quite sure.

"Alright, get in the car; we have a flight to catch."

* * *

At the airport, I'll admit, I was a bit jumpy. There were security guards everywhere; the place was crawling with them. Though I suppose that is to be expected, to prevent me - or worse - from causing any trouble. And yet here I was, waltzing around anyway.

I'll confess, the last time I took a plane was a family trip to Boston when I was eight. I vaguely remember having more luggage than this. I remember the airport being bigger.

Memory; it's a weird thing...

 _"David! Hurry up, we're going to miss the flight if you keep stopping!"_

 _"But Mom! What if Boston doesn't have it?"_

 _"It's a national bestseller, Boston's going to have it, dear."_

 _I turned around to find my older brother once again gravitating towards the newly released_ Jurassic Park _novel and my mother once again having to pry him away. I didn't understand why he wanted to read it so much; dinosaurs were long dead and I firmly believed that if they were alive, they would kill everyone. What would be the point of that?_

 _David had now done this so many times that Mom made him hold her hand so he wouldn't run off. Suddenly I felt very proud of how my parents didn't have to hold my hand. I knew it was important to not be late. Besides, I was too excited about flying to dare delay._

 _We hurried along, following my father to the new gate. He had explained to us how the plane was supposed to go to the gate we had been originally been given, but it had been changed to this new gate. I had asked why, he said he didn't know._

 _Not much longer, we reached the gate. There's was no one there, and that seemed to agitate my parents. They asked the nearest person what was happening and I heard the flight to Boston had been delayed until tomorrow._

 _David and I looked at each other. I didn't want to be stuck at the airport, but my brother grinned._

 _"You think they'll let me get_ Jurassic Park _now?"_

"Hank?"

Cassandra was watching me. She must be getting used to me constantly zoning out by now. Blinking a few times, I said, "I'm fine."

She shrugged and started heading into the sprawling building. I dimly wondered, as I half heard David reading _Jurassic Park_ to us late into the night, if our flight would be canceled.

* * *

It wasn't. We made it without incident and with time to spare. I found it to be more cramped and overwhelming than I remembered. I made a firm resolution to stay away from air travel as much as possible.

Cassandra pulled out a book, and for a moment I was a bit disappointed it wasn't _Jurassic Park._ Turning away, I looked out the window, watching the landscape shift.

By 11:30 the plane was in the air, by 11:35 I was out.

* * *

I woke up once more; not to a bird chirping, but to Cassandra gently shaking me awake. The plane had landed and had already taxied to the gate. Once she saw I was awake, she busied herself getting the carry-ons down from the overhead bins. By the time I was fully awake, the plane was half empty and I was met with an expectant gaze from the woman in front of me.

"You sure take your sweet time waking up, don't you? I hope you're ready to go," she said as she handed me my luggage. I nodded, got up, and followed her off the plane.

As we walked through JFK, I found my gaze returning to the massive windows on either side, showcasing all the various goings-on outside. I watched as a plane slowly approached an empty gate, waiting to receive the passengers who would soon be getting off. On the other side, another plane was being loaded with various bags. This particular plane was headed to Huston.

As I followed Cassandra, she took a turn into a smaller, emptier wing. As we proceeded down the hall, I got the feeling this part of the airport was off limits to civilians. She stopped in front of a conference room, where I could see a few people waiting. She turned to me and held my gaze.

"The people you are about to meet are the rest of my team. First things first, they will not be happy seeing you. In fact, they want you in federal prison." Unsurprising, but hearing that aloud suddenly made me much more nervous about what was happening. She continued, "Secondly, you will not talk unless absolutely necessary. I can already tell you are prone to making sarcastic remarks and other quips that can, and will, be taken out of context. Remember, your life depends on this. Do you understand?"

I took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand."

"Good." She opened the door and lead me into the room. I was immediately met with a sudden silence as everyone's attention turned to me. I could feel the tension in the room skyrocket. Evidently, no one wanted me in that room; me included. Feeling incredibly wary, I followed Cassandra's lead and sat down next to her. Instantly, one of the agents, German from what I could tell, was on the attack.

"I must have misread your report. I was expecting someone who could help with Snowstorm; not-" he shot me a glare that rivaled my brother's, "- _him._ " He spat out the word. Not happy to see me, indeed. Meeting his glare with a more leveled gaze, I kept my mouth shut.

"I intentionally left that part out for this exact reason. If I had mentioned it, he'd have been dragged down here in chains and would be considerably less willing to cooperate." Cassandra glanced around at the other agents before returning to the German. "If you have any problems or grievances with working alongside this man, say them now. Once you're willing to listen, I will be happy to explain everything."

An older, Asian woman spoke next. "I was aware we were to only call a meeting once our target had been found. I find it hard to believe this sorry excuse for a human is the person we need. I find it hard to believe that you fell for this story. Unless he can convince us he is who you claim, this whole endeavor is a waste of time."

A middle-aged black man picked up where she left off, a slight French accent noticeable. "I agree with Will. This man belongs behind bars, not working on a highly classified international mission. He's already seen too much."

Cassandra nodded to the two agents. "Thank you for your constructive input; Ingrid, Grant." She turned to the last agent, who had been silent so far. I had not noticed him until now, but seeing him sent a shock wave through my body. An intake of breath as his gaze met mine. He knew as well. When she addressed him, he briefly broke eye contact, but I dared not look away. I missed what she said to him, but I could not miss his response.

"While I acknowledge my colleagues' concerns, I do not believe we should pass judgment without hearing what he has to say. I trust Cassandra's judgment that this young man may have something of use. I will hear him out."

As I felt all eyes turn to me, I could not help but feel that this man would be deciding my fate for the second time.


	9. Pain

_"Are you sure? This one's the most stable, they should be-"_

 _"No, haven't you been listening? It's not about stability, it's about susceptibility. I nee-receptive, that can adapt. This one almo-ast time, you hav-east one!"_

 _"There aren't that many-"_

A tremendous burst of pain laced behind my eyes as I slammed my head on the table. A wordless scream escaped me, yet I could not hear it. An earsplitting, persistent ring echoed through my skull; coupled with the now increasing thud of pain, I felt my head was being ripped in two. Slowly, agonizingly, the pain subsided; all I could hear was a quiet panting. It took me a bit to realize that was me.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and flinched, pulling away, still breathing heavily. I looked around at the surprised faces around the table and realized I also had tears streaming down my face. Wonderful. No doubt they now though I was a nutcase as well. I abruptly stood up.

"It appears I need some time alone. If you will excuse me." And with that, I was out the door. I vaguely heard a commotion from the room and Cassandra calling out to me, but I couldn't make any of it out as the door closed.

I had to keep moving. Find a distraction, something to focus on, anything. Not paying attention to where I was going, I tripped over a row of seats and promptly fell into the row opposite. I forced my self to calm down. It could mean nothing, just a strange coincidence. Had to be. Nothing to do with him. Wouldn't be possible.

Deep breaths.

I had to analyze what just happened. It was a flash from the past, that I knew, but the last time that had happened was almost exactly two years ago in Russia. But something about this one was different. It felt, foreign. As if it didn't belong to me. That voice...

I heard a click, pulling me back to reality.

"Yeah, I found him. Idiot didn't make it very far."

I glanced up to see the Asian woman, Ingrid, eyes and handgun locked on me, as if she was daring me to run. I ignored her and wiped away what tears were left. A few moments later I heard several pairs of footsteps approaching. Instinctively, I pressed myself deeper into the seat in a vain attempt to hide, but thankfully he wasn't there. Feeling utterly exhausted, I looked up at the four figures standing in front of me. I was distantly aware that Cassandra was the only one without a weapon out. She was the first one to speak.

"Hank, what the fuck were you thinking!?"

She reached out, but I pulled back from her. Squeezing my eyes shut, I vaguely hoped she would leave. I could feel myself drifting on the fringes of sleep. A hand rested on my shoulder, but I was too far gone to do anything about it.

* * *

Waking up always took me a while. Never knew why, never really cared. As my body started the process of waking up, I became aware of the couch I was laying on; the blanket draped over me; voices coming from another room. For a moment, I didn't move, listening to the conversation happening without me.

"You really think this is a good idea!? The guy's fucked up! There's something wrong with him! An' then he just got up and left! You should be thankful I haven't fucking shot him yet!"

"Will, that's enough! You really believe someone who went through five years of being a human guinea pig would come out completely normal!? They did that to him! That's why he's here!"

"You have to admit he is a liability, Cassie. While I agree he can help us, I just don't agree with you on how. "

"If I may interrupt, I fear judgment is being passed without crucial information about this young man."

 _That voice..._ Oh no, don't let it happen again.

The door opened suddenly, causing me to start in surprise. Again, I was met with the unwavering stare of Ingrid, who must have heard me somehow. Immediately behind her was Cassandra, concern etched across every fiber of her being.

"Hank, are you alright? What happened?"

I started to reply but stopped abruptly as I caught sight of the old man soul gazing me. I blinked, but he was already moving away. Pulling myself together, I sat up and met her eyes.

"It's difficult to explain."

"Amazingly enough, we have all the time in the world right now," Ingrid said, glaring at Cassandra. "But if Cassie has to keep babysitting you, I guarantee you will not last long."

"I don't need anyone _babysitting_ me, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." I stood up to meet Ingrid's scrutiny.

'Really? Forgive me, but after that little episode I don't quite believe you."

Cassandra intervened, both physically and verbally. "I don't think we should pass judgment without hearing his explanation."

This time it was Will who spoke up. "Oh please! You're starting to sound like old Dimitri! 'Let's see what he has to say before we do anything'. I've wasted enough of my time here. I have more pressing matters to attend to." He tried to leave but was stopped cold by an unwavering stare. He must have seen something there, because he turned right back into the room, crossing his arms in resignation. "I guess I could hear him out."

Cassandra nodded and turned to Grant, who was watching the scene unfold. He shrugged. "Doesn't look like I have much choice. Let him speak."

Cassandra started to speak but was interrupted by Ingrid. "If you don't mind, I'll be asking the questions." Without waiting, she locked eyes with me and began.

"Why did you attempt to leave federal custody?"

"I wasn't attempting to leave federal custody, as you put it, I was- I was overwhelmed and needed time alone."

"And that reaction had something to do with why you slammed your head into the table and screamed?"

"Did I scream?"

"Yes. Gave Cassandra quite a fright."

"I had a flash from the past...it usually comes with unbearable pain, hence the..."

"It's happened before?"

"...yes, but not for some time."

"And when was the last time?"

"Two years ago, right before I finally left Russia. It hasn't happened since. Well, until now."

"Do you know what caused it this time?"

 _Yes._ "Not specifically, no."

Ingrid tilted her head as if she could sense I was hiding something, but she let it pass. "So, in this memory, can you hear voices?" I nodded. "What were they saying?"

"Fragmented sentences that didn't make sense, but-" I stopped myself, something nagging at the back of my mind. I didn't trust myself to look anywhere else but Ingrid. Taking a deep breath, I continued. "It was more of an echo than a..." I paused, reconsidering. "If it was a memory, it wasn't my own."

A dull thud came from the other room.

Ignoring it, Ingrid pressed on. "Something tells me this isn't normal."

"No, it's not."

She paused briefly to consider this, then asked, "Can you tell where this took place?"

"In their main facility. I recognized the room; I've been in it before, but I didn't see myself in it at that moment."

A moment of silence, then Grant spoke. "What I want is to see you do the telekinesis thing Cassie said you can do. Frankly, I don't believe it."

"Whoa, telekinesis? You're telling me this idiot can lift shit with his mind!?"

Cassandra smothered a laugh while Ingrid and Grant both shot Will an exasperated look. Grant put a hand to his face as Ingrid said, "You really didn't read Cassie's report, now did you?"

"I- skimmed it."

"You skimmed it?"

Will was now turning a slight shade of red, looking anywhere but at his teammates. Grant snorted and shook his head.

"No, I can't 'lift shit' with my mind. If you find something cracked or ripped, I can show you."

Grant pulled out his phone. "Dropped this a while back and the screen cracked. Would that work?"

"That should work, yes."

He handed me his phone and the others crowded around, making me feel a little claustrophobic. The screen did have a spiderweb crack on the bottom of the screen. A bit more complicated than a sheet of paper, but doable.

I held the phone out, making sure everyone could see, before placing my thumb on the worst of the crack. A small flash of pain laced down my arm, and I could feel the crack closing up. I moved my thumb across the rest of the fractured glass until the screen was whole again. I handed Grant back his phone and shook my arm, trying to get rid of the ache that inevitably grew.

The others were silent, watching Grant inspect the screen for cracks that were no longer there. He looked at me and said, "Well, I'm convinced. Thanks."

Ingrid noticed me holding my arm. "It causes pain to do that."

"Sometimes, depending on what material it is. It's also quite tiring." As I said that, I noticed I was swaying slightly. Ingrid noticed it as well.

"I see it does."

There was a brief knock on the door frame, and everyone turned to see Dimitri standing in the doorway. I flinched at the sight of him; in an attempt to back away, the backs of my knees hit the couch and I fell back onto it.

"I would like to talk to young Hank if you don't mind." When no one moved, he added, "Alone."

Cassandra flashed one last glance at me before leaving with the rest. When we were finally alone, he closed the door behind him. I watched him, wary of his every move. I was frozen in place, my heart rate increasing as my anxiety skyrocketed. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he made a movement towards me, and that was enough for my fight or flight response to kick in; I was over the couch and against the back wall before he had taken a step.

"Well, that answers my first question. You do recognize me. But I have a few more if you don't mind?"

When I didn't respond, he gave a gentle smile. "I should have expected as much. You wouldn't have any fond memories of me, would you?" He paused, smile gone. "Actually that's what I wanted to ask you about. I couldn't help but overhear your earlier conversation, about the echo you described. I have a feeling you can help me understand something about it." He fixed me with a stare that stripped me away piece by piece.

"It was me you heard, wasn't it?"

Pain. My mind was splitting itself apart again and again. I couldn't move, try as I might to desperately to look away, close my eyes, anything. I was aware of the look of genuine shock on his face as I writhed in agony, fragments of voices-his voice-jumbled around my subconscious sending spikes of pain thundering through me every time they hit a wall.

The door crashed open and caught his attention, tearing his gaze from mine. In an instant, the pain vanished and I collapsed to the ground, gasping. I waited for unconsciousness to claim me, to fill the sudden void the pain had left, but it refused to come. I could dimly feel hands picking me up, anxious voices floating around as I was carried. As I drifted on the edges of semi-consciousness, I could make out snippets...

" _What the hell happened in there?"_

 _"-sure myself, but for his safety, I may have to stay awa-"_

The conversation drifted off as I was carried away. Thinking was too much for the moment, so I focused on the footsteps of the person carrying me. Opening my eyes slightly, I could see it was Will who was carrying me. And he didn't look too happy about it.

Sometime later I was dumped unceremoniously onto another couch. Focusing on my breathing, I listened to what I could of the conversation the other agents were having. About me, of course.

"You think he's unconscious?" Ingrid.

"Unless he can open his eyes while he's knocked out, I doubt it." A pause. Will continued, "Do we even know the extent of what those fuckers did to him? This feels like some psychic PTSD shit to me."

"No; the extent of what we know is that he and hundreds of others were subjugated to intense human experimentation. For how long, we aren't sure."

"Five years." That was me, feeling I had to say something. Pushing through the exhaustion, I sat up and found their eyes on me.

Grant asked the question I'm sure they were all thinking, "Are you going to tell us, or what?"

I didn't dare tell them everything, only what I could bear. After all, some things were best forgotten.


	10. Stasis

I've always loved parks. There's something about the open sky, the calm breeze, the absence of city noise that lets me relax in a way I can't anywhere else. And after what happened in the past few days, I needed to relax. I think everyone's had that, those days where things keep happening, one after another. I've had eventful days before, but never have I had so much stress packed into forty-eight hours. That of course, brought me back to those five years; and that I never want to do. What needed to be said has been said. After yesterday, I'm taking some me days.

Unfortunately, that's a little hard to do with a CIA agent shadowing me every step of the way. When I had announced I was going out, Grant followed me and silently made it very clear I was not allowed to do so alone. Fine by me, as long as he didn't try to talk.

We'd been sitting side by side, silently, for a few hours by now. I was using this time to finish piecing my brain back together and finally go over what happened yesterday and the day before. It had taken a bit longer than I thought it would; not surprising, just exhausting.

I looked over at Grant, wondering how he was coping with the inevitable boredom. He was asleep. Mildly confused, I tapped his shoulder. He woke up and started when he saw me.

"You done with whatever you need to do?"

I nodded, getting up. "You seemed surprised to see me."

Rubbing his eyes he said, "I honestly expected you to be gone."

"And where would I go?"

"Good point."

He got up and glanced around. "Well, we should get going. Unless you have something else you want to do?"

"Besides pass out for a few days, no."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "Amen to that."

"Says the man who just took a multi-hour nap."

He herded me in the right direction. "Hey man, in this line of work, you take all the sleep you can get."

That, I supposed, makes sense.

* * *

"...can't just go and throw accusations around!"

"We need to get him vetted is all I'm saying. After what happened, I don't think we can trust him, no matter what the others say."

"He's already been vetted. What more can we do? I don't like it either, but until we get word from higher up, we're stuck with him."

"Being given the OK by some old government dog is not vetting! You can't tell me this doesn't seem suspicious to at least one person up high!?"

"Will, keep your voice down!"

"All I'm saying is all four of us know something's weird, even-"

Deciding I'd heard enough, I opened to door to find Ingrid and Will in a quiet yet heated debate. Will stopped mid-sentence when he noticed me. "Oh, you're back."

"You sound absolutely thrilled about it."

Grant immediately interposed himself between us. "All right, you two. Don't start."

Will glared at him and pushed past. Grant gave him a weird look and turned to Ingrid.

"Do you know where Cassie is? After all, she's the one in charge of this one's accommodations."

I interrupted, "You know I can hear you, right?"

"Yeah."

So that's how it is.

Ingrid smothered a laugh and replied, "She's back in her office, waiting for you two to finish. Never mind, I take that back. She's right there." Ingrid pointed behind us. Sure enough, Cassandra was quickly approaching, eyes locked on me.

She stopped in front of us, gave a curt nod to Grant, and beckoned me to follow her.

As we were walking, she said, "You take your time, don't you?"

"I like to make sure I can do things, like think or talk."

"That bad, huh?"

"...yes."

She was silent at this. Thankfully, she changed the subject. "Ready to get emotionally attached to a new house?"

Baffled, I stammered, "Wha-? I never-I don't-I didn't get _emotionally-_ to the _house_!?"

She had a little smirk, the ass. I rolled my eyes and made a point of not responding to her. All throughout the car ride and the walk to her flat, she attempted to wrangle me into conversation; my refusal to do so didn't seem to bother her. However, seeing she lived in a condominium instead of a house, I had to say something.

"I thought you lived in a house? I was promised a house."

Cassandra stopped and glowered at me. Now it was my turn to smirk. She unlocked the door and went inside, leaving me to follow; muttering, "So that's how it's going to be."

I didn't say anything, I was too busy admiring the condo. Almost mirroring the house in Maine, it was spacious and well-lit. Once I was able to really explore, I found a small balcony overlooking the wooded back lot, where some children were running around. I also noticed there was only one bedroom. Cassandra saw me looking at it, puzzled, and said, "Couch."

I sighed. "I should have figured."

"Yes, you should have. Alright, make yourself at home." She walked away, making it clear we were leaving each other alone. Miffed, I surveyed my little kingdom. "'At home', huh. The couch, you mean. Fine. As long as I don't have to share a room with you."

About twenty minutes after I had settled in, Cassandra came back out to lay down some ground rules. I wasn't allowed to leave the condo on my own unless there was an emergency that triggered an evacuation. If I did want to go out, she had to come with. The only people I could contact was her, the other agents, and emergency responders. I started feeling as if I was under house arrest with all these restrictions. Then I realized I was technically a felon and a POI in a CIA investigation, so I guess I could justifiably be under house arrest.

She finished up my restrictions by saying, "If there's anything you want to do tonight, you should tell me now. I don't need you interrupting my report."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She raised an eyebrow, then walked away, leaving me alone once again.

* * *

There actually was something I wanted to do, but not tonight. I needed a bit longer before that confrontation. So instead I was sitting on the balcony sifting through thoughts. In particular, to the conversation between Will and Ingrid. My first instinct was they were talking about me. It certainly made some sense. But something was telling me I didn't know the whole story. Neither were surprised when I interrupted. Neither looked guilty; in fact, Ingrid almost looked relieved. It wasn't piecing together, so I put it aside.

Dimitri.

He knew me and I knew him. He had been one of the people spearheading the project. Saw him the most in the final year.

Pain suddenly laced through my brain. Hissing, I narrowly avoided slamming my head on the railing. I tried- and failed- to stop tears from forming, but it was so sudden and intense it was all I could do to not scream. Then, instantly as it had come, it was gone. Evidently, it was dangerous to even think about him. As I steadied my breathing, I told myself I wouldn't make that mistake again.

Instead, I focused on the sounds around me. There was no thunderstorm this time, but the drone of cars in the distance was a constant undertone. An owl hooted nearby. In the distance, sirens. Hearing them triggered an older, less painful memory. Now that I look back, that was the day I set myself on this path. The first step I took in this bloody, death-filled direction.


	11. Memory, the First

"Hank, don't rush out just yet, wait for your brother!"

"But Dad, we're gonna be late!"

"No buts! Neither of you should be walking alone."

Halfway out the door, I rolled my eyes and scuffed my shoe on the door frame. David always had a habit of being late. And since I had to wait for him, it usually meant I was late as well. After all, there's only so much of my bag slamming into my back that I can take before I give up running and accept another tardy. At this point, I think our teachers just assume we're going to be running in ten minutes after the bell.

I was going to have to somehow teach him time management. Eventually. But not now, because he finally got everything together, and we started our race to school.

When I pushed open the front door, something felt off. David, behind me, said, "Where's Misty?"

Muffled sobbing came from the living room, so we both hurried to find out. Inside, we found Mom and Dad holding each other, Mom quietly crying. David immediately dropped his bag and ran to them, asking, "What happened? Where's Misty?" I didn't move, my eyes locked on the bloodstained collar sitting on the coffee table.

I blindly reached out for David, trying to stifle sudden tears. I could feel his arms instinctively wrap around me. Vaguely, I heard Dad talk. This was all they could find, they didn't know what happened to her, could have been a coyote.

Deep in my mind, I knew there was another possibility.

Two weeks later, I stood outside the house of one of my classmates. Ben. I sat next to him this year. It had taken me a while to discern the slight metallic miasma that sometimes hovered around him. And after Misty was found dead, it was back around him.

Heart and mind set, I knew what I had to do.

I had managed to get out of school early on a day David had to say late, and thus used my time to prepare. I knew they had a shed out back and both his parents were still at work. Quickly making my way to their backyard, I tried my best to make sure no one saw me. I beelined for the shed and opened it. When my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I took a look around for what I needed.

There was...decidedly more than I expected.

A rat. Three birds. Bits of a stray dog I thought I had seen just a month ago. A cat's foot, grey. There was no way I was turning back now.

Blood boiling, eyes ice cold, I got ready and waited.

He didn't expect it. Immediately, there was blood everywhere. For the next minute, the world was red. A hysterical grin was etched into my face as I went to work.

After a bit, I came to my senses and realized he had been dead for a few minutes. Quietly panting, I looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Miraculously, no one had. I quickly put everything back into the shed, except for the shovel. That, I planted right next to his body. Everything finished, I quickly walked away to meet David.

"That's terrible, that poor boy! I hope whoever did that to him gets caught soon!"

We were watching the news; the main story was about the brutal murder of fifth-grader Ben Howitz, which of course I had nothing to do with. Mom was watching as she moved about the kitchen. Dad was more focused on chopping vegetables to pay much attention.

"Yeah, I hope we don't have a serial killer on the loose."

"Oh, I don't like that! It's not safe for the boys to walk alone."

My eyes glued to the TV, not wanting to miss a word, David's protest faded into the background. I was looking for any hints that anyone suspected me. They didn't, the leads were describing an older person. I was safe for now.

No one ever found out.


	12. Dread

"I want to talk to David."

Cassandra was looking at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.

"You do know either you have to fly up there, or he has to fly down here. Either way, I don't think he's going to be happy to see you. Besides, you have to get travel cleared and I have to go with you."

"I know, but I need to talk to him. It's why I risked this in the first place."

"Risked what?"

"Being found."

She looked up from her report again, as if she wanted to ask something, then thought better. "Why do you want to talk to him?"

"The last time we really saw each other was almost two decades ago. As you may know, we didn't exactly end on the friendliest of terms."

"I read the report."

I stared at the table, trying to piece together what exactly it was I wanted to talk to David about. Less than a week ago I knew what I wanted to say, but that was before I had my past forcibly dredged back up. Before we had a fleeting encounter that raised more questions than it answered. Before my mind had been shattered twice. And that was assuming he even wanted to see me again. He made it very clear that if I wasn't part of a federal investigation, I would be behind bars.

I just needed to talk to him.

I got up and walked to the balcony since that's as outside as I could get right now. The sun was starting to peak over the trees, but I could see dark clouds in the distance. A bit prophetic for my current situation; either they would come, or they would clear. My expectations versus my hopes. I was aware of rustling behind me.

"I have to talk to them anyway. About..." A pause. "Government stuff."

"Classic government stuff."

"Shut up."

Snickering to myself, I turned around to see her standing up. She was scowling at me, which only broadened my grin.

"'Government stuff' was really the best you could come up with."

"Hank, I'm warning you..."

"Alright, fine." It wasn't her tone that shut me up, it was the light touch on her side-arm that did the trick. I wasn't quite sure if she was serious, but I wasn't about to find out.

"Anyway, the four of us have a meeting. You, however, have been summoned...elsewhere."

I wasn't grinning anymore. "Why doesn't that reassure me?"

She snorted. "Relax, they're only mildly interested in your felonies. Probably just want to ask a few questions."

"Still doesn't reassure me."

* * *

Hours later, I was walking out of the room, legs shaking. I leaned against the wall, trying to bring my stress response down. Just when I decide to forget about my past, suddenly everyone and their dog wants to hear about it. Did I really expect to be a part of an investigation and not have to talk about 'important intel' that only I know? Yes, yes I did. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. So much for wanting some me days. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the waiting room I was supposed to meet Cassandra in.

She was not there, but someone else was.

"Grant."

Upon seeing me, he got up. "Hey. Heard you want to talk with your brother."

"Yes? And...?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea, man? After all, he wanted to throw you behind bars."

"Why do you care?"

"Because it would save me a flight up to Maine, which is cold and wet. I don't do well in cold and wet."

I stared at him, utterly disoriented. "Wait, you're the one coming with? I thought it was Cassandra."

"Yeah; she said she would love to go with you, but she has some important, _classified_ work to do. So now you get me. Don't sound so disappointed."

It was clear she did not want to witness the impending showdown between me and my brother.

"Government stuff, huh?"

He looked quizzically at me. "I...guess?"

At that point a wave of exhaustion swept over me, landing me hard on the nearest chair.

"You don't look too good."

"Thanks."

An awkward silence. A nap sounded really tempting right now.

"You doing alright?"

I looked at him. "Honestly? No. If I think about certain things, I get pain. If I look at...certain people, I get pain. And everything right now seems to revolve around those two things."

"And yet you want to see David."

"Fuck. I have to." That nap felt tantalizingly close.

Grant took one look at me, half passed out on the couch, and said, "Well, I trust you'll stay here until I get back then."

I managed to give him the thumbs up before I fell asleep.

* * *

It wasn't a dream, I could tell right away. It was too real, too tactile. It was another memory. Definitely not real and definitely not mine. Familiar wall designs in unfamiliar rooms, and droning on and on was a distressingly familiar voice. I saw three faces; a man's, a woman's.

And my own.

"Wimbleton, are you ok?"

Waking in a flash, I pulled away from the touch, only to see Grant hovering over me. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes. I could feel a migraine setting in.

"I'm fine."

He didn't seem to believe me but didn't press further. He looked around, concerned. "This might not have been the best place to leave you."

"What do you mean?"

He watched me get up, swaying slightly. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. "We've been cleared. You better not pass out on me on the way there. When you said you wanted to sleep for a week straight, I didn't think you would actually do it."

"Oh, my apologies. Next time I'll just ask my body not to collapse on me without warning. Next time I'll decline to answer the nice government people probing about sensitive subjects. Yes, wouldn't that be nice."

"She was right, you do get sarcastic."

I just gave him an exasperated look and continued walking.

"Would you prefer the term sassy?"

"Grant."

"Anyway, we need to go."

"Thank you."

* * *

As it turns out, I managed to make it onto the plane before passing out again. It was starting to worry me how exhausted I've felt recently and the number of times I've fallen asleep because of it.

I woke up briefly on the plane, conscious enough to catch part of a call Grant was making.

"...was twitching, and not in a good way. He flinched away from me when I tried to wake him. And you know who had just been in the room?" A pause. "Yeah. I'm with Will on this one, something shady is going on." A longer pause. "He looked even more exhausted after I woke him up than he did before. He's even asleep now." Another pause. "Right, but he can't..."

And I was asleep again.

* * *

I was back in Maine, and wishing I'd brought a heavier jacket. The temperature had dropped in the couple of days I'd been away, and I wasn't prepared. Speaking of not being prepared, I still didn't know what I wanted to talk to David about. Surprisingly, he had agreed to talk. Not sure If I should feel encouraged about that.

I finally felt that I was rested enough to function properly, but my stress response was starting to get out of control. Was I nervous about actually, finally talking to my brother? Fuck, I was. But I had to. If I didn't, it felt as if a part of me would finally die; that one sliver that had kept me moving for the past seventeen years.

We were meeting in Brooklawn Memorial Park; I didn't know if that was because it was close to the airport, or a point was being made. I looked around for David; he was late, as he had always been. Seems he hadn't quite gotten the hang of what I had shown him. I glanced at Grant, who was somberly looking at the plaques. Some had flowers, most didn't.

How many people were in similar places because of me? I always told myself they deserved it- and they did- but visiting a cemetery really hit me in my vulnerable state. I was starting to regret coming here. But it was too late to turn back.

Way too late, way too soon. I watched the car pull up, park. The door opened, and we locked eyes.


	13. Desolation

We stood staring at each other for an eternity. He was definitely looking better; beard and hair neatly trimmed, the stress that had been around him a few days ago was gone. Compared to me; someone falling apart.

He waved his hand. "Well?"

I couldn't say anything. I was looking like an idiot.

He sighed. "Did I really come all this way for nothing? I think I did."

As he turned to leave, I finally found my voice. "Wait, David-"

"Oh really, Hank!? What could you possibly have to say to me!?"

"David, I just-"

"No! You know what you did! How many more families have you torn apart since then!? Wasn't ours enough for you?"

Now I was on the verge of tears. Fuck. Voice small, I said, "David, I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're SORRY!? You _killed our parents_ and you're _sorry_!?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to fucking say!? It was a horrible mistake! A tragedy! I wish it never happened! _It's my fucking fault and I'm sorry_!" I was pissed; at him and myself. I knew this would happen.

"You really expect me to believe that? You fucking expect me to believe you regret it!?"

I could feel the tears falling. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying in vain to do something, to think of something. All I got were memories, pain, and an incredible migraine. I opened my eyes; he was just staring at me, absolute fury written over his face.

"I can't do anything about the past, David. I want to, but I can't. No, shut up! I want to change! I want to change and I can't do it alone. I want to change and you're not _doing anything_ to help. You're making it worse!"

"And how the _fuck_ can I help?"

I had to take a deep breath to try to calm down. I was distraught, on the verge of hysteria; everything I had avoided for almost two decades had finally returned to drown me.

"You're the only one who knew me back then. You're the only family I have left. You're in danger because of me, and I don't want anything to happen to you, or your wife, or your daughter. I want to change and I _need your help_."

I met his gaze, the anger there all but gone. Please. You have to. David, I need you. No one else knows, no one else can-

"No."

What?

"I can't. I left that behind." He turned to leave. "And you with it."

And I watched him go. What else was I going to say? That was it. I got my answer. I just stood, frozen, long after he had left, dimly aware of the tears drying on my face. Fragments of splinters of thoughts tore my mind, concepts never really forming, except one. Death.

I would have stood there forever, but Grant eventually herded me back to the airport, back to the jet, back to D.C. I couldn't do anything. I was too emotionally destroyed. A few times, Grant must have said something; I couldn't hear him. Back in D.C., I was completely listless. Conversations were had and I never heard a word. People were fussing around me and I never saw who they were. The only thing vivid in my mind was Dimitri's ice blue stare. For once, there was no pain. Or, at least if there was, I couldn't feel it. I wish I did.

Eventually, someone herded me into another car, led me to a building, to a flat. I was gently pushed onto a couch, a blanket laid on me. I was left alone with my thoughts, in the dark.


	14. Enigma

For the next few weeks, I was an absolute wreck. I barely ate, my personal hygiene was shot. Any sleep I managed to get was fraught with nightmarish memories. What was I going to do? I'd lost the only family I had left and it was completely my fault. I'd lost the will to live.

The only thing that kept me going, barely, was the investigation. They needed me to get at the entity that devastated my mind, and that entity needed me to further their breakthrough. That was all I was good for apparently; bait, or a lab rat.

I don't know what triggered it, but eventually, I became fully aware of what I was doing. Or, more accurately, what I wasn't doing. The first thing my fragmented mind registered was the fact that I couldn't remember the last time I took a shower. My hair felt like straw. I ran my fingers through it, that hurt.

I looked at my hair, hanging in my face. How did I let it get this far? I was stronger than this, I couldn't fall apart just yet. And now, I finally had something to do.

I got up, legs shaky after weeks of minimal movement, and headed to the bathroom. Once inside, I locked the door and stripped completely. My clothes were needing a serious wash, and so was I. I'd only used Cassandra's shower once, but even then it was more of a struggle than it needed to be.

Once inside, I vented. I wordlessly let loose everything I was feeling under the frigid water until my brain finally registered how cold I was. Turning up the heat, I gave myself a pep talk. I had to pull myself together. That was the worst lapse I ever had. It could have ended even worse and I wouldn't have cared. Fuck. I didn't need David's help! I could do this on my own.

Oh, who am I kidding. I needed him. It felt too foreign to do normal, people things. But I couldn't wait for him, it would be too late. I had to try. Maybe it was already too late.

 _What about Cassandra and the others?_

That wouldn't work, brain. They only know me as a killer. They would only help me if it helped the investigation, and once that was over I would be on my own again. I needed someone who saw me as the human I once was, and hopefully still am.

Noise coming from elsewhere in the condo, snapping me back to reality. I grabbed the nearest shampoo, and only when it was already in my hair did I realize it was Cassandra's. Oh well. I paused, thinking. Then I grabbed her soap, got my hands overly sudsy, and started vigorously cleaning myself. When I was done, I felt, and smelled, eons better than I had earlier.

When I finally got out of the shower, it registered that I hadn't brought any clean clothes in with me. Ugh. I was a mess. I dried myself as much as possible, wrapped a towel around my waist, and peeked outside. The coast was clear.

I went to the living room and started rifling through my clothes. I found something suitable and hurried back to the bathroom.

Finally clean and dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror. I hadn't seen what I looked like before, but I could tell this was a major improvement. The face gazing back at me still looked exhausted and starving, but I looked less like a zombie and more like a person.

I walked to the kitchen, looking for something to eat, and found a bowl of cereal waiting. I didn't think, I beelined for it and wolfed it down. Done, I just sat there, head in hands, staring at the empty bowl.

"Oh, thank God."

I turned around to see Cassandra standing behind me. She looked incredibly relieved.

"You were out of it for so long, we were starting to get worried you would, I don't know, waste away. But when I heard you in the shower, I'd hoped you had come out of it." I didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her. " You hadn't eaten in a week, So I thought you'd be hungry."

I turned back to the bowl, not being able to articulate what I wanted to say. Three plus weeks of nothing really took a toll on me.

"You want more?"

My head snapped up at that.

She rolled her eyes and said, "I'll take that as a yes." She moved a cabinet, then the fridge. She came back with a cereal box and a carton of milk and set them in front of me. "Don't expect me to babysit you like this. You even said it yourself."

I was too busy pouring myself another bowl to answer.

* * *

Back at HQ, I was greeted with mixed reactions. Grant and Ingrid both nodded when they saw me, Will made a point of ignoring me, and Dimitri was nowhere to be found.

Getting down to business, they didn't ease me into it, but they didn't throw me off the deep end either. Thanks, guys.

We were looking at maps, and I was doing my best to find the base. I had finally gotten myself to speak, so that helped.

"Do you remember anything besides water?"

"Cold. I remember cold."

"Water and cold. Great, that narrows it down."

I shot Ingrid a withering look; she looked decidedly un-withered. Grant smothered a laugh and said, "She's as sassy as you."

If looks could kill, he would be dead two times over.

"Guys. Focus. If you can't stay on track, then we're wasting time. Hank, anything other than water and cold?"

I looked at Cassandra, then back to the maps. "It wasn't near the ocean, it was a lake. There were islands. A small town was nearby."

Grant came back from the dead to say, "A town helps, how close was it?"

"I don't know, I just walked around the edge of the lake until I found something."

Ingrid jumped on that train of thought. "Do you remember the name at all?"

I did my best to think, but only letters came to mind. I thought I would recognize it if I saw it, but we had to find it first. A small flash of pain made me hiss.

I heard Grant say, "Dude, don't burn yourself out again."

"I'm fine." I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath. "I only remember parts of it, though I'm pretty sure I would know if I saw it."

A few moments of silence passed as we poured ourselves over the various maps. Lake, islands, town. There were a lot of lakes in Russia.

Grant broke the silence. "You know what would be nice? If we had someone who could read this." I kept my head down, silently begging him not to, but he continued. "Where's Dimitri, anyway?"

It was Cassandra who answered him. "I don't know, I haven't seen him all day."

I looked up at that and noticed Ingrid staring at me. She went back to her map. She furrowed her brow.

"What?"

She looked up at me. "Just an observation. Most towns in Siberia are on rivers. Are you sure it wasn't a river?"

"If it was a river, it was a very wide, very still one."

"So if we find a solitary town on a lake, then statistically, it's likely to be that one."

"I'd have to look at it."

"Well, I have two for you to look at."

Ingrid pushed two maps in front of me. Immediately I could tell the first was completely off. The shore of the lake was different from what I remember, and the town was much bigger.

The second map seemed eerily familiar to me. I don't know if it was the shape of the lake or what. The town name struck a chord with me. Somehow, Ingrid had found the right one.

"I'm guessing we found it."

Grant and Cassandra immediately snapped to attention. I pushed the map towards them.

"It's this one, it has to be." I was getting a headache just looking at it.

Cassandra looked at the map, then at me. "Are you sure?"

"It's giving me a headache, it's the right one."

She shrugged and stood up. "I'll let the higher-ups know, maybe see if we can get this ball rolling." And with that, she left.

* * *

It was about an hour and a half later when Cassandra came back. During that time, Ingrid and Grant were having small conversations that I couldn't quite make out. I was preoccupied with thinking, with intermissional naps. I've now served my purpose; I gave them intel and found the last known location. The end felt fast approaching.

We all looked up at Cassandra, half in the room, waiting for her to say something. She was slightly out of breath, looking distractedly around the room. Then her eyes landed on us.

"Have any of you seen Will since this morning?"

"No, why?"

"He also needs to be in on this. He's completely out of the loop at this point."

It was silent for a moment before Cassandra turned to leave. "Well, he'll turn up eventually. If you find him tell him he nee-"

The door flew open, almost hitting her in the face. She was about to unleash a rant at whoever it was before she realized it was Will, wild-eyed and frantic. He took one look at all of us before speaking.

"Dimitri's gone."


End file.
